


The Tale of Genji

by MeltyRum



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltyRum/pseuds/MeltyRum
Summary: A freshly cyberized Genji goes to visit an old friend.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2
Collections: Boku no Hero Academia x Persona





	The Tale of Genji

Sagawa’s office was a lot like how Genji remembered it, featuring an incomprehensible mixture of methodical tidiness and lackadaisical laziness, which shifted rapidly depending on which part of the room you were surveying. He seemed to have no interest in cleaning his personal tea cups or the water boiler which featured alongside them, but Genji couldn’t even tell if he had an assistant for that sort of thing, either. Did he just discard this stuff at a break room and take someone else’s equipment whenever he needed?

The desk, on the other hand, was carefully manicured, with nary a stray piece of paperwork left for wandering eyes to see, Sagawa’s filing boxes carefully covered, his desk drawers shut tight—some of them even locked (not that he had checked…). The only peculiarity about this desk might come from the aluminum baseball bat which was propped up against its side. Was it there as some sort of threat? Or did Sagawa-san really enjoy baseball that much?

Something else that stood out, however, was what appeared to be a lovingly wrapped bento, complete with a girly little note attached via string, which Genji couldn’t help a quick glance at.

“‘Thought I would bring you something fun, darling! I hope you’ll find the flavors are as strong as you are! ♥!’ What in the—?” He was surprised to hear his own incredulous laughter. Had Sagawa gotten married while he was gone? But no… that was impossible, he thought; Ozen didn’t mention anything like that, either. Actually—this bento had obviously been untouched: did whoever left it… _also_ sneak in here?

Genji cast his gaze all over the office, making sure he was still alone. He looked back to the note. Either someone was trying to poison Sagawa-san, or he had gotten entangled with someone frightening.

After verifying that he was still quite alone, Genji decided to have a seat in Sagawa’s chair, taking in the office from this perspective. Would _he_ have gotten an office like this if he had stayed? Had not been nearly burnt to death by his own brother? Well… the roller chair was nice and comfortable, but it still wasn’t really his style. How fortunate, he thought, that he could go through life as a cyborg ninja instead, ideally scaring the pants off of his brother’s clan’s officers when they found the former heir sitting at their desks and spinning around in their expensive chairs.

In many ways, he was grateful that his “death” divorced him from any position in the Tojo Clan. While he was still loathe to admit any such sentiment in front of Mikio, he understood that he owed both Mikio and Shinra the life that he had now—more than that, he owed them for allowing him a chance to be something he never thought he could truly be. Certainly, the transformation came at the cost of some of his _agency_ , but it was a difficult thing to resent when it brought him closer to a dream.

But even if he would be exiled from this life for good, there were a few friendly faces he wanted to see—partly to see if they would recognize _his_. Sagawa had known Genji’s father for a long time, and it was possible that Genji would never see him again once he became a hero. Actually, it was probably better that way: Genji was sure to have a hard enough time earning the respect of the public if and when his familial history became clear. In a way, visiting these people was a sort of goodbye, even if he might not tell them so.

It was during these thoughts that the office’s door opened, swinging wide in one smooth motion as someone took a single stepinside. Genji looked up, staring blankly at Sagawa, who—apparently alerted at the noise Genji had been making—had already drawn his sidearm and was carefully examining the intruder.

Genji raised his hands disarmingly, smiling thinly at his visitor. “Nice to see you again, Sagawa-san. I come in peace; I still do not know if this body can take a bullet or two… I suppose we could find out.”

Sagawa shut the door, taking a few more steps into the room, keeping his gun trained on Genji all the while. His expression was one of cautious confusion; Genji was more or less familiar with this part by now, where they searched his face, then his neck, his hands, then the rest of whatever robotic anatomy was being exposed by his clothing that day.

Eventually, Sagawa lowered his weapon, slipping it back into his jacket. He assumed an uneasy smile. “So the sparrow still flies, eh? I guess Ozen wasn’t joking, after all.”

Relieved at the recognition, Genji smiled and lowered his hands. “I am relieved to see your office is in the same place, Sagawa-san. Although, I am _also_ beginning to think that perhaps officer windows are better off locked and barred. I am not the only one with this kind of freedom of movement, you know.”

“Heh. Ozen even warned me about that; I think she called you a ‘bug’.” He sighed, stepping behind the desk to check the window. “I have to say, though, I’m getting weary of people sneaking into my office.”

“Funny you mention that,” replied Genji, looking back to the bento. “I don’t think I was the first one here.”

It took a moment for Sagawa to spot what Genji was talking about. He clicked his tongue as he stepped forward, pulling the little note off of the bento and shaking his head. Pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, he tossed it into the trash.

“Want to tell me what that’s all about?” Genji prodded, getting to his feet in case Sagawa wanted his chair back.

“Not particularly,” the old man admitted, taking the bento and stashing it in the refrigerator under his tea set. “It’s business.”

“ _Lunch_ is business?” asked Genji, chuckling incredulously.

“Yes. Technically. Not clan business, though,” he said somewhat cagily, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting up as he paced back toward his desk.

“Well, I haven’t been in the clan for a while. Might not even be part of the family, really.”

“Uh huh. Doesn’t really look like you’re going to be leading a normal life with a body like that,” said Sagawa, sinking into his chair. “On that note, you look more healthy than I would have expected. Not sure I’d say the same about how you sound, though.”

“Well, the body more or less takes care of itself; not sure I can help the voice, but I’m getting used to it,” he explained, having a seat in one of the noticeably less-comfortable chairs across from Sagawa. “As for living a normal life, I think it is an option, but not one I will be pursuing. Actually, I guess you could say that we’ll be enemies sometime soon.”

Sagawa smirked, tapping some ash off of his cigarette. “Oh? Why, exactly, do you say that, Genji-kun?”

Genji couldn’t help smile at the honorific. “Well, there’s a reason I have this body, rather than some more rudimentary prostheses. I will probably be in the hero business sometime soon—after a bit more preparation and study, of course. Since I ‘died’, that might be easier said than done, but… I suppose I thought you should know.”

It was hard to tell if Sagawa looked impressed or disgusted. “Heroism, huh? Still intent on giving up your birthright, then—I suppose that’s best for us, in all honesty.” He took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. “Have you talked to your brother yet? Does he know about this?”

Genji shook his head. “I’ve talked to him, but he doesn’t know where I’m headed just yet. And I’ll be leaving him alone, in case Ozen didn’t tell you.”

Sagawa laughed a little. “You’re pretty forgiving. But—that’s not really surprising, for you. I’m sure Sojiro would be glad to see the two of you tolerating each other. Probably would have come back from the grave if Hanzo had really done you in.” He shook his head disapprovingly, apparently glad that was all behind them. “But tell me about this new body of yours, Genji-kun: you didn’t get that thing for free, did you?”

Genji chuckled, scratching his temple with a metallic finger as he considered how to answer that. “Yes and no. Honor demands that I ‘pay’ for it, since I pretty much owe my life to the men who gave it to me—but I’m not technically indebted to them, no. I probably should not go into any detail, but I am actually living with my doctor now. He’s… a good friend.”

Sagawa watched him carefully, little sparks of recognition alighting in his eyes, as though Genji was looking more and more like himself as the conversation went on. He couldn’t help but wonder how odd of an experience it might be for an old soldier like Sagawa. Genji was back, yes, but was not here to stay; on the contrary, his whole body had been morphed into a weapon for the express purpose of fighting criminals like him.

“I see,” said the old man eventually. “I’m guessing they didn’t save you for friendship, though—unless you knew them beforehand? What exactly are they getting out of it?”

“Hard to answer,” he started. “My doctor—let’s call him S—I’m not actually sure he wants anything special from it. It seems like he’s just a nice guy, with enough skills and curiosity to make him want to help someone like me. The mechanic, on the other hand—M—I assume he is getting something a bit more grand from it, like recognition and fame within his company… or perhaps from the world.”

“Your mechanic, eh?” Sagawa’s gaze drifted back to Genji’s jawline and arms. “Something tells me he would have to be a cut above the guys who do the occasional oil change.”

Genji nodded. “I suppose M is more of an engineer. He is not so bad, either, but we butt heads pretty frequently, to be honest. It is… difficult, I suppose. Even though it pleases me to be alive—and pleases me even more to be headed for a career I thought I could never have—sometimes I feel more like a puppet, or a tool.” He laughed dryly. “It’s frustrating that I had to die and receive a body I never asked for in order to get what I want.”

Sagawa chuckled, almost contemptibly. “You did always prefer to do your own thing, Genji. Despite what I said earlier, it’s a shame you didn’t take more interest in your father’s work.Being a cog in a machine… old guys like me, we’re a little more used to that thing. You’ll resent making M famous, eh?”

“You could say that,” Genji admitted. “But I am hopeful it will be worth it. In any case, I’ll at least be able to take him down a peg—in front of a crowd, no less,” A smug smirk graced his features. “He will take me to Purgatory soon—do you know it?”

An eyebrow crept up into Sagawa’s forehead. “The coliseum? That’s Tojo territory, isn’t it?”

He nodded, mentally reminding himself to keep Shinra’s and Mikio’sclan and familial affiliations a secret. “Right. Might not be a bad place to debut and see how this body performs in a fight.” Genji balled one hand into a fist a few times, as if to demonstrate the mobility of his fingers.

“It takes me by surprise that your mechanic would know about this place, of all people,” said Sagawa, stubbing his cigarette out into his ashtray. “On that note, did he have any idea who you were when he fixed you up?”

“Yes, it seemed that way. I couldn’t tell you why they decided to take a chance on me,” he murmured, deciding he should probably just ask Mikio at some point. “Perhaps—even as a limbless piece of charcoal—I was charming enough to justify resurrecting.”

Sagawa smiled slyly. “I know I asked, but I’m still a little surprised you took the time to come and tell me all this, though I can’t say I’m not interested.”

Genji shrugged. “Well, I cannot exactly go tell my father—not like this, I mean. I have visited his grave, so I’ve told him _that_ way. But when it comes to talking to someone, I have to go with the next-oldest man I know,” he finished with a smirk.

Sagawa gave him a dark little chuckle. “Very funny. Well, for better or worse, I’m not willing to fill in as a father figure for you and Hanzo, but—if I died soon—I’m glad I would be able to tell Sojiro that his sons are getting by surprisingly well. Anything else that you think I should know? Your circumstances will be pretty different soon, and I doubt you’re going to write.”

Genji sat back in his seat for a moment, trying to think of what else to share. It was rare for Sagawa to express such interest in his personal life—and even rarer for Genji to go ahead and share it. Of course, he would have had much less to share back in the days where he had his limbs, where most of his activity consisted of going into the city to meet women, drink with friends, and otherwise spend his father’s money. Like Ozen, Sagawa was the kind of person to apply discipline to the Shimada brothers when Sojiro himself might be reluctant to do so.

For some reason, spilling everything to Sagawa made it feel even more like a farewell than he had intended, almost as though he were severing the final thread which tied him to the clan—except for the one that had his name written on it, at least.

“I suppose there is this woman I’ve been seeing,” Genji started, uncertain what exactly to share.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” replied Sagawa, retrieving a new cigarette. “Didn’t think you had a habit of sticking with one woman at a time, though. Oh—let me guess—you can’t tell me _her_ name, either?”

Genji couldn’t suppress a guilty little laugh at that. “You’ve got me there. I suppose she’ll be D—no, let’s make it H. There is not much I can say without revealing her identity, although…” He looked up at Sagawa for a moment, considering something. “I suppose she isn’t in any circles you would know about. Let’s just say she’s a foreigner, that she’s cute, and that we get along, and we can leave it at that.” He smiled.

“Mhm. Well, she must be some kind of celebrity if you really can’t say anything. Another hero, maybe? That would be quite the sight,” said Sagawa, taking a generous drag on his cigarette. “Does _she_ know who _you_ are?”

Genji blinked, as though that idea had never occurred to him. Certainly, the rest of the _world_ would likely learn his identity once he made his debut, but Hana-chan? For some reason it hadn’t crossed his mind. Well, it wasn’t likely to be news that made would spread very much outside of Japan, but it wasn’t as though he were trying to hide it from her.

“I guess that’s a ‘no’,” laughed Sagawa.

“She… she will not mind! I am fairly confident of that,” he protested, trying to justify himself. “As I said, H is a foreigner and only rarely visits Japan, so I doubt she knows the names of the clans—even the major ones. At any rate… I _will_ inform her, but it is not as though I would have been some sort of criminal, either way. Does that make sense?”

Sagawa only seemed to grow more amused. “Pretty flustered there, Genji-kun. Stammering like this, I suppose you must really like her.” He smirked, finishing up with his second cigarette. “Hard to blame you, I suppose; it makes sense you’d work hard to keep a celebrity’s attention on you.”

Genji laughed uneasily. “Maybe that’s enough about me, for now. For the same reason I might have a chance with her, it may be difficult for me to get all the clan news once I get started. So, on that subject: how has Hanzo been, Sagawa? Do you think he can… _do_ this?”

Leaning back in his seat with a fond smile, Sagawa crossed one leg over the other, apparently deciding how to answer that question. “I’d like to say I’ve seen worse. The beginning was a bit bumpy, what with a few snakes in our happy home convincing Hanzo to set you on fire, but… that’s mostly been dealt with. Otherwise, the clan has been proceeding as usual. Hanzo even met with the Tojo rokudaime, to my surprise.”

Genji nodded, recalling his own conversation with Hanzo. The politics of it all still didn’t interest him very much, so he was surprised to feel some relief that Sagawa seemed to approve of the current state of the clan. Even if he had never intended to take a position in his father’s empire, a part of Genji still felt remorse for shirking his responsibility to it—for abandoning his brother and father to tend to it themselves. If the clan could prosper without him, then that guilt might be eased.

“It allays any fears that I might have to hear that you believe my brother is a leader worth supporting, Sagawa-san.” Genji looked down at the ground, smiling a little sadly. “I know you have already helped him come this far, so I am grateful.” Contrary to his own expectations, he found himself bowing deeply, setting his hands onto his knees and bending far enough that he was only barely still seated.

Genji would not be able to assist his brother in this, so it felt appropriate to extend his gratitude to the ones that he knew _would_ be. If Sagawa and Ozen stayed with him—assisted him just as they both had when the scions were still children—then he could have confidence that his brother, at least, would succeed—if not the entirety of the clan. Perhaps Genji’s guilt only grew when it was weighed against the knowledge that he, one day soon, might be apprehending his own brother’s men.

“Stop it,” said Sagawa sourly. “Even if you’re not with the clan, it’s unsightly for a Shimada to bow like this. What would your father think?”

As Sagawa requested, Genji righted himself. “Hmm. He would probably be happy that I was showing _any_ amount of humility,” he answered, grinning.

“That does sound like him, I’ll grant you,” Sagawa muttered, still sounding a little annoyed. “But no one wants to see it. Even if he’d be proud of you, he’d punch me for making you bend to me, so be more careful with that sort of thing, alright?”

“I hear you, Sagawa-san. For your sage advice, I thank you from the bottom of my heart,” said Genji, immediately bending into another deep bow.

Sagawa didn’t seem impressed. “I’m serious! Sit straight!” he shouted, but he could not fully conceal the mirth in his voice.

Genji obeyed this time, sitting back with a playful smile.

After another sigh of vexation, Sagawa seemed prepared to return to the conversation. “You keep mentioning things like your debut and having to ‘get started’, but what exactly is all that? You’re figuring out what it takes to be a registered hero?”

“Yes, that’s right.” The cyborg nodded, thinking back to what Shinra and the others had told him. “It will take a lot of training. Some of it is physical, but it goes without saying that there is a test that will need to be taken. I do not think just anyone can attempt it, but M is rather well-connected—or at least, the company he works for is. So my trajectory might be more simple than a traditional one.”

“No hero school, then?”

“I doubt it. I am a bit beyond high school, at this point,” he chuckled. “But between M, S, and some tutoring from a former hero, I should be equipped for whatever is asked of me. This body is well-suited for the work, so… even if it becomes an advertisement for the company, I should be able to make myself immediately useful. I am much stronger and faster than I used to be.”

Sagawa seemed intrigued. “Huh… and here I am growing older every day. Hard not to feel a little jealous, Genji-kun. Don’t suppose you could introduce me to this mechanic of yours?”

Genji laughed. “I am sorry, Sagawa-san, but I refuse—for now. In any case, he may have to take some liberties if he were to try and upgrade you. For instance, he would likely have to take off your limbs, and perhaps some of your organs? And I have enough organic parts that I will continue to age, for better or worse.” He nodded, trying to remember as much as Mikio and Shinra had told him.

Indeed, the body came with a wealth of upsides (not being dead chief among them), but Genji was still—thankfully—quite imperfect and human. It would be impossible to say the same for that crime-fighting robot, Aigis, for example. Rather than being an android, it all boiled down to Genji having a better-equipped body than most—one with an automatic hardening quirk, improved strength and reflexes, and the ability to secret away a few shuriken. It wasn’t that different from the heroes who wore specialized suits into the field—only, Genji’s suit couldn’t be removed.

“Suppose I’ll have to pass on becoming a cyborg myself, then,” said Sagawa dismissively. “Still, I can’t help but wonder if there will be dozens of you running around in a few years. If this body could bring you back from immolation, I imagine it has plenty of other applications.”

“Well…” Genji laughed uncomfortably. “Unfortunately, they tell me it is not cheap to build or maintain, so that day may be farther away than would be ideal. Until then, I will try to represent it well. When you pulled that gun on me, I was tempted to ask you to shoot—I get the feeling I could deflect a bullet or two.” He grinned.

“It’s not too late,” said Sagawa, smirking. “But more seriously, it seems more important than you’re implying. You’re going to be quite the guinea pig, Genji-kun.”

He shifted in his seat a little bit. “You are right about that. It has started to feel that my life does not belong only to me. But I should be grateful to be useful,” he said, sounding anything but grateful.

Just as Genji was considering how to elaborate, a high-pitched tweeting began to sing out from Sagawa’s pocket.

“That’s usually a bad sign,” murmured the old veteran, pulling out his phone and answering. “Go ahead.”

As this seemed like as good a place as any for the two of them to part ways, Genji decided to make things easy on the both of them and rise to his feet, walking around Sagawa’s desk to wait beside the window while simultaneously doing his best to pick up anything interesting from the old man’s conversation—to little avail, as Sagawa quickly wrapped his his conversation before also rising.

“Going to be a busy evening?” asked Genji, smiling.

“Looks like it. Nothing dangerous, but… I should make an appearance, regardless. Try to come through the front door in the future, alright?” He smiled, watching as Genji opened up the window.

“That will not happen. It wouldn’t do for a hero to announce his visit to you, would it?” Genji winked. “I’ll head out first, then. It was good to see you once more, Sagawa-san.”

Sagawa just nodded. “Good luck, Genji-kun. I better not see you any time soon,” he added with a smirk.

“If you don’t stay out of trouble, you just might!” said Genji, hopping up onto the windowsill and giving Sagawa a brief wave before he dove off the edge.

After scratching some of the exterior paint on the building as he fell, Genji managed to find a satisfactory handhold, which he used to purchase himself some time and survey his surroundings again. Perhaps he would do things a little differently as he made his way home, this time. While he was in relatively good spirits from his conversation with Sagawa, it might be a good idea to go from the top down.

He began climbing, passing the window he had just leaped out of (Sagawa still hadn’t locked it) and continuing onto the roof. Looking out to the buildings adjacent and considering the direction he would have to go, he wasn’t certain if he could get the entire way doing this, but… he might as well try. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop the entire way back might be fun, after all.


End file.
